


Dear Scorpius

by Nymph3



Series: Dear Scorpius [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Children, Baby Scorpius Malfoy, Charms Master Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy-centric, Draco is a good parent, Family, Friendship, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, I know she loves her son but that woman is a BLOOD SUPREMACIST, I'm Bad At Tagging, Narcissa is NOT THAT GOOD, POV Draco Malfoy, Physically affectionate Slytherins, Post-Canon Divergence, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Ya’ll like to forget that bit, even though he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he won’t be in a relationship tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29291982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymph3/pseuds/Nymph3
Summary: Draco is not the domestic type. He barely has time for visits to his mother, much less his friends, and no one would ever call him ‘good with children’. He’s far too busy for all of that, anyway. But that all changes when he visits a small Wizarding orphanage in France.
Series: Dear Scorpius [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181828
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	1. Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the song Dear Theodosia, but make it adoption, and I might adjust a few of the lines, to fit the new context.
> 
> I have no schedule, chapters will be released whenever I’ve finished writing them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not support JKR

Draco Malfoy was a busy man. A workaholic, if you were to ask any of his friends. He disagreed, he wasn’t obsessed with work, he just needed to be as qualified as possible for anyone to possibly employ a Malfoy nowadays. It was a challenge finding a potions master willing to take him, finding the charms master to apprentice under was even harder. Of course he didn’t need the money, the Ministry has seized plenty in reparations, but they still had more than enough to live off of. But Draco couldn’t imagine himself just laying around the Manor all day. He had no interest in politics, like his father, or helping charities he had no connection to, like his mother, so work it is.

Draco ran a hand through his silver-blond hair, stretching his neck to the right, wincing at the loud crack. His back ached, and he hadn’t got nearly enough sleep, both now his constant state.  
He glanced at the clock on his fireplace mantel and groaned. He had spent the past few hours in his potion study and he only lied on his bed for a minute, or what he thought was a minute, and now he was late for his visit with his mother. 

He changed quickly, casting a few refreshing charms along the way, and examined himself in the mirror. He wore a grey muggle suit with a deep purple button down, an ensemble that his mother would certainly wrinkle her nose at. 

It wasn’t Draco’s fault muggle suits were more comfortable, and more practical than Wizarding dress robes. He tousled his now shoulder length hair, the perfect length for him. Any longer, he looks too much like his father, but any shorter, he looks too much like that spoiled, cruel boy he’s been trying to distance himself from. 

He squared his shoulders, and stepped through his Floo.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Draco, Darling!” His mother stood and embraced him almost immediately after he stepped out of her fireplace. “Hello, Mother.” He kisses her cheek as he pulled away. He noticed the corners of her lips turn down as she examined him, but when her eyes snapped back to his, she was smiling again. “How are you?” She too his arm and led his to the garden, where her house elves had tea set up. “I’m well, Mother.”  
“Not working too hard?”  
“Of course not, Mother. I’m working just hard enough.”  
She raised an eyebrow at him, unamused, but moved on, relating tales of her adjustment to the town. 

Narcissa managed to avoid Azkaban only by a hair, otherwise known as the Savior, Harry Potter himself speaking on her behalf. She eventually ended up with a two-year long house arrest, followed by a six-month long probation, which ended five months ago, and she immediately moved to one of their previously untouched properties, a house in a small wizarding village in southern France. 

Draco himself was held for 7 and a half months awaiting his trail while the Ministry dealt with the ‘real’ Death Eaters. It was declared that, due to his being a minor at the time, and the threat of Voldemort on his family, that the time he spent held by the Ministry up until that point was imprisonment enough, though they still tacked on a year-long probationary period, as well as the hefty reparation fees. 

“Draco, dear,” his mother began. Draco sighed. He knew this was coming. “Yes, Mother?”  
“When was the last time you got a day off?”  
“I get days off on both of my apprenticeships, Mother.” And He did. But the fact was that the free days mirrored each other, so when he had time off of the charms, he was working for the potions, and vice versa. 

“You barely have time to visit anymore,” Narcissa continued. “When was the last time you saw your friends?”  
“I write to Greg every few days,” Draco sighed. “And I Floocall Pansy and Blaise whenever I’m able.”  
“Which isn’t often?”  
Draco frowned into his teacup, choosing not to answer that one. Narcissa sighed. “When was the last time you met a nice young man?” Draco’s head shot up at that.  
“Mother,” he said slowly. “You know very well that I don’t have time for that sort of thing. And even if I did, I’m a Malfoy.”

“I just want to see you settled, Dear. Your father and I were married by the time I was your age.”  
“I’m twenty-one, Mother, not thirty. I would hardly say that I’m ‘getting on’ in age.”  
Narcissa purses her lips, frowning slightly at him. He only stared back, leaning back in his seat. Suddenly she smiled. “Come to the orphanage with me this afternoon, Draco.” He scoffed at her. “Oh, really, Mother! Seeing a bunch of wailing, snot-nosed brats is hardly going to make me want to settle down.”  
“I just want you to spend the afternoon doing something that isn’t work, Draco. You were just going to lock yourself back in that dank lab.”  
Draco sighed, leaning his head back before standing. She would never let it go, so he might as well agree and get it over with. “Alright, Mother. But just this once.”


	2. When You Smile I Am Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco does NOT like children. No exceptions. 
> 
> Wait.... who’s this?

Draco and Narcissa strode purposefully towards the orphanage, barely taking a moment to look around. “Is there a particular reason we don’t apparate straight into the orphanage?”   
“It’s only courteous, darling. How else will they know we’re coming?” Draco knew what she meant was really ‘how else will the locals know how kind and generous I am?’ But he only nodded.

As they approached the two-story building, they noticed an elderly, pleasant-looking woman waiting to greet them. “Bonjour, Mrs Malfoy! So lovely to see you again!”   
“Bonjour, Madame Elise.”   
“And you must be Draco!” She grasped his hand before he could even offer it, giving it a long, vigorous shake as she grinned far too brightly at him. He instantly disliked her. “Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you! Your mother talks about you all the time.”   
“So I’ve been told.” He removed his had from hers and kept his expression schooled to neural. 

The woman’s smile faltered slightly, but didn’t fade enough for Draco’s liking. “Entrez! Come in! Oh, we’ve been able to make so many replacements since your mother became a matron!” 

She led them into the building (which, Draco had to admit, was much cleaner than he had expected), babbling all the way. She led them through the office, the kitchen, into every. single. bedroom. A couple of the urchins stared unabashedly at them, while some ignored them entirely. And finally, after a solid 90 minutes (Yes, Draco did time it) of her yapping, into the last room, the nursery. 

“-And we were finally able to purchase the updated cots for the littlest ones! There’s only so long you can spell cots and prams new, you know!” Draco rolled his eyes as he turned away. 

Of course he knew these things were important, he wasn’t completely heartless. But if he were to donate to anything involving children, it would certainly be from a distance. He wrinkled his nose. It seemed the urchin closest to him has had an accident. (Yep, he would be at a far distance) 

“I believe this one just soiled his pants.” He jerked his thumb to the right. “Oh, little Ben,” Elise cooed, picking up the squirming baby. She and Narcissa moved over to the changing table, and Draco hightailed to the other side of the road as quickly as possible, taking the time to look around a bit. 

The nursery was much emptier than the other rooms, urchin-wise. From what he could tell there were only three babies in the room, each spread out by a couple cots. 

The walls were covered in a yellow floral wall paper, which, considering how aged it looked, must’ve been especially garish in its prime. 

A tiny coo pulled Draco out of his thoughts, and he noticed that the third baby was now to his left. He rolled his eyes, and turned to face it. “Alright, what is it, hmm? What do you want?” He peered down at the urchin, and, when it kept babbling, decided to pick it up. 

He hooked him hands in its tiny armpits, and lifted the child up. The baby was, (Draco was loath to admit) absolutely adorable. He (for Draco could now tell that it was a he) had a complexion only slightly darker than Draco’s own, and rosy, chubby little cheeks. On his round head laid whisps of golden blonde hairs, as if they’d been colored by the sun. Looking up at Draco were the brightest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen on the baby’s smiling little face. 

“Oh,” Draco sighed. He held the boy properly now, cradled in on arm. The little boy wrapped a tiny hand around Draco’s finger.   
“Oh, I see you’ve met little Tom.”  
The name made Draco freeze.  
“Tom?”   
“His ministry given name,” Elise nodded, unaware of the fire that name ignited in Draco’s brain.   
“His mum died in childbirth, poor thing. She came escaping England in the war. The father was never found, but considering her story we assume him dead. He’s about six months now.”   
“How awful,” Narcissa said, her voice more carefully polite than truly sympathetic. “A witch, was she?”  
“Who, the mother? She was a squib, if I remember correctly.”  
“Hmm.” Narcissa stepped away, but not so quickly as to arise Elise’s suspicion. “I remember you writing something about a new playground?” 

Elise brightened, and led them out the nursery, but Draco stood, frozen, still clutching the child. The baby started to whine, so he quickly loosened his grip. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “I suppose it’s not your fault they saddled you with that name. Though it certainly is unfortunate, given your history, isn’t it?” Tom cooed in reply. Draco examined his face. “You don’t even look like a Tom, do you?” Tom babbled, letting go of Draco’s finger only to try and grab at the buttons on his shirt. The man felt the corners of his lips tug, as he gazed down. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Draco, what are you doing?” His mother called. He jerked his head up, went to join them as Elise led him mother to the backyard. 

Her incessant cheerfulness and talking were much easier to tolerate now that he held Tom in his arms. The child seemed to find every part of Draco absolutely fascinating, grabbing for his fingers, buttons, suit jacket, even, on more than one occasion, tugging at his hair.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, I’m afraid Draco and I must be leaving.” Draco looked up. His feet had been following them on autopilot, and he realized they were back at the entrance. Tom had, for some reason known only to him, attached his mouth to Draco’s lapel, and he was determined to suck on it. 

“I’ll take him now.” Elise reached for Tom, who left a trail of drool as he was pulled away. “This one’s probably hungry.” Draco frowned. His arms felt empty without Tom’s soft warmth. He noticed his mother eyeing him curiously, and schooled his expression. “It was a pleasure, Elise.” Merlin’s beard, his voice sounded so sincere. He took his mother’s arm, and apparated them both back to her home.


	3. There is So Much More Inside Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had, wine is drunk, Draco tells his friends.

Draco didn’t expect to ever return to the orphanage again once, much less three times in the next two weeks. He spent the entirety of his time there with Tom, holding him, speaking to him. 

He learned things he never thought he would, like how to change a nappy, and how make and feed him his bottle. Draco didn’t think it looked (or tasted, but he would deny having ever put that Hippogriff piss in his mouth) very good, but Tom seemed to enjoy it. 

He never told his mother about his returns, but he was sure that Elise would, if she hadn’t already. 

As time went on, Draco visited Tom as frequently as he was able, and the workers grew very comfortable with him letting himself upstairs and staying until they have to kick him out. 

That’s when Draco knew he had made up (and quite possibly lost) his mind. 

What he hadn’t realized, was that he dropped off contact with his friends, until Blaise stepped out of his fireplace one afternoon. 

Draco had been working through the daily sent-home tasks of his charms apprenticeship when he’d been startled out of his work. 

“Blaise!” His friend stared at him, a look of disbelief etched across his face, and then scooped him into a hug. Draco immediately wrapped his arms around him. “What is it? Are you alright?” 

Blaise let him go abruptly and shoved him. Hard. “Me? What about you? None of us have heard from you in weeks! You can’t just drop off like that, Draco!” 

Draco frowned. “What are you talking about? I didn’t drop off.”  
“Are you serious? Draco, we haven’t heard from you! Once a week minimum, no matter how busy you get, once a week to each of us, that was the agreement. It’s been SIX!” Blaise glared at him. “You haven’t even replied to Greg. You know how he gets.” 

Draco deflated, all the fight oozing out of him. He really didn’t think it had been that long. “Merlin, Blaise, I’m sorry.” Blaise seemed to deflate a bit as well, seeing how genuinely apologetic Draco was.  
“What is it, then? It can’t be your work, even you don’t have that little free time.” Blaise’s mouth curved into a slight smirk. “Dray, have you met a bloke?” 

Draco snorted, despite himself. “No, nothing like that. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”  
Blaise raised an eyebrow.  
“This sounds like it calls for wine. Come on, then. They’re waiting for me to get back, anyhow. This way you don’t have to repeat yourself.”

“Blaise, I’m in the middle of work.”  
“Draco, Greg was on the verge of a panic attack.”  
Draco’s face sobered, and he nodded, following Blaise back through the floo.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“DRAY!” He’d barely stepped out of the fireplace after Blaise when he was engulfed in a giant bear hug that threatened to crush the life out of him.  
“Hey, Greg,” He croaked. “You’re crushing me.”  
“Sorry, sorry.” 

“Where in Merlin’s name have you been?” Pansy snapped. She was already standing, scowling at him. She paces when she’s worried. And Draco knew she was always worried about him.  
“Don’t start talking yet!” Blaise called from the kitchen. 

Draco moves to kiss Pansy’s cheek before flopping down onto Blaise’s couch. “So sorry about that, Pans,” he sighed. “Really am.”

“Alright!” Blaise jumped into an armchair, floating glasses of wine at each of them. “Start from the beginning.”

And he did.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When Draco finished explaining what he’d been considering, they had gone through an entire bottle, and his head was now in Pansy’s lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. The room was silent, and when he looked up, they were all staring at him in varying levels of confusion. 

Greg cleared his throat. “Um, Dray, no offense, but-“  
“Have you completely lost the plot?” Pansy asked incredulously, her hands stilling in his hair. 

“I know, okay,” Draco groaned. “I know, how it sounds, how I sound, and.... it’s ME, I know.”  
“You haven’t finished either of your apprenticeships yet,” Greg pointed out.  
“If all goes well, I become a potions master in a month. Everything will be easier to manage from there.”  
“You don’t know anything about children!” Blaise sputtered. “You’ve never even babysat! You’re- you’re twenty-one, for Merlin’s sake!” 

“I KNOW!” Draco shot up, but forced himself back when he saw Greg’s flinch. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve thought this through, alright? I thought about just sponsoring him, but I can’t do that. I need to be in his life. I thought about waiting until I finish my charms apprenticeship, but that won’t be for another year at least, and I really can’t wait that long. It’s been getting so hard leaving him each time.”

“I want to give him a home. It’s what he deserves, a family. And I... would like to be that family.”

Another bout of silence. 

“Bloody hell, Dray,” Pansy sighed. “You’ve never done anything halfway, that’s for sure.”  
Draco snorted, something he only did with his friends. 

“What does your mum think?” Greg asked. Draco took a large gulp of wine.  
“I may have, perhaps, decided not to tell her.. yet.”  
“YOU WHAT?!?” Pansy screeched.  
The boys winced. 

“Why would you do a thing like that?”  
Draco sighed, and drained his glass. “Because, Blaise, for one: every reason you’ve already listed. For another, she’s matron of the orphanage Tom is at. I’m sure if she wanted to, she could block my chances, probably even have him moved to a different location.” 

“Why would she do that?” Greg asked.  
“His mother was a squib.”  
Greg frowned. “Oh.”  
“Yeah. Even if the other factors were different she’d certainly have something to say about that. She still will.” 

Blaise scoffed. “Good luck working that out, mate.” Draco refilled his glass. “Oh, cheers, Blaise,” he drawled sarcastically.  
“What’s the plan, love?” Pansy asked. “I assume you have one.”  
Draco nodded. “I’m going back tomorrow. I’ll speak to Elise, the woman in charge, about my intentions. I won’t be able to visit often over the next month, I’ll be finishing my mastery and getting the flat ready for Tom.”

“You should learn to cook while you’re at it,” Greg piped up. “Unless you’re getting a house elf.” Draco mentally kicked himself.  
“I’ll add that to the list.” 

Pansy sighed dramatically, looking very put upon. “And I suppose I’ll go with you when you buy your supplies,” she groaned, as if he were forcing her. “Since I’m the only one here with any remote knowledge of that sort of thing.” 

Blaise smirked. “I wouldn’t call a constantly pregnant sister with whom you barely speak ‘knowledge’.”  
“It’s more than the rest of you, isn’t it?” Pansy sniffed. “And I’ll thank you to remember I was quite involved in her first one. Until the novelty wore off, of course.”  
“Of course,” Draco mimicked, laughing when she shoved him. “But in all seriousness, thank you. I’ll need help on that end. On every end, really.” 

“In that case,” Blaise announced loudly, springing to his feet “I nominate myself, Blaise Zabini, as part-time babysitter, only on weekdays, and favorite fun bachelor uncle from now unto forever, at your service.” He finished with a swooping now. 

“I’ll help too,” Greg offered shyly. “I dunno anything about kids, but... I’ll learn. I can help, I dunno, kid-proof your place?”  
Draco smiled at him. “I’d like that, Greg, thanks.”  
But Greg still had a look on his face. It was a look he’d had since childhood, when he had a question, but didn’t want to ask. He’d furrow his brows, and clench his jaw to keep his mouth shut.  
“What is it?” Draco asked.  
“It’s just... an awfully bad time to be going around England with a name like Tom, innit?” 

Draco laughed, he’d been wondering which one of them would bring that up. “Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckled. “He won’t have that name for long.”  
“I should hope not,” Pansy scoffed. “A Malfoy named something as plain as Tom? Your ancestors would be rolling in their graves.”  
“Ah, Yes, it would certainly be his name,” Blaise said solemnly. “Not at all the fact that he’s the son of a squib, being adopted by a twenty-one year old gay bachelor.” 

They all burst into laughter at the mild absurdity of the situation, but even as he laughed, Draco’s brain was turning, and he found that he already had a name in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, the gang’s all here! They’re gonna be very involved, it takes a village and all that.
> 
> Also, I’m well aware that an actual adoption process in very long and expensive, and the odds of a single gay 21 year old being allowed a child are low, to say the least. But there’s nothing in HP even hinting at the idea of adoption, (as far as I remember) so I just made it super simple. Mostly because Draco’s very rich, his mother basically funds the entire orphanage, and the French don’t really have anything against him.


	4. We’ll Bleed and Fight For You, We’ll Make It Right For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice that I changed the chapter title of number 3. I felt it fit better this way. 
> 
> Also!! Thanks so much for 139 hits!! Wow, that’s insane... thanks for reading my writing everybody!

Never let it be said that Slytherins half-arsed their plans. 

When Draco informed Elise of his plans to adopt Tom, she was thrilled, albeit a bit wary of his abilities. But she readily agreed to his timeline, and even gave him a big hug as he was leaving, which he, to his credit, returned, however stiffly. 

Draco threw himself into work even more than before, trying to finish his potions mastery on as high a note as possible. When he wasn’t working on that, he finished his charms work in double time, taking most of it home to work on, so that he could oversee Greg and Blaise’s work on renovating one of the bedrooms. 

On the spare moments he wasn’t doing any of that, he was out with Pansy to all the baby shops, muggle and wizarding alike. But then they couldn’t figure out what half the technological doohickeys were in the muggle shops, so they stuck to the wizarding catalogues. 

French and Italian, or course. Draco couldn’t exactly walk into an English baby supply store without a fuss, these days. 

But even Draco had to admit, he had taken on a bit much. That was why, about a week and a half before his deadline, he swallowed his pride, and approached his mother about taking on one of her house elves. 

He hadn’t wanted a house elf when he first moved into his flat, because he wanted to prove to himself that he could be independent. He figured that it was just him to take care of, and there were all those spells, so how hard could it be? 

Draco was very wrong. 

Now, most of his meals consisted of restaurant food, with the exception of his friends or mother sending him home with containers. He remembered laundry, but barely, and there were sections of his flat that hadn’t been touched since he’d arrived (though he’d never admit to that part). And with a child coming... well. 

Narcissa was thrilled, naturally, and sent with him off with the first house elf she saw. 

When Draco arrived back home, he and the elf stared at each other for a few moments. She wore what looked like a very old, frayed pillow case that was very dirty, and filled with holes of various sizes. 

“Hello,” He said finally.   
The elf dipped her head. “Hello, Master.”   
“What’s your name?”   
“Tippy, sir.”   
“Alright Tippy. My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. Everyone calls me Draco. Let me tell you what’s going to happen. I am going to clothe you.” 

Tippy’s head shot up, her large eyes filled with confusion. Draco put up a hand to indicate that he wasn’t finished. 

“I am going to clothe you, and then I am going to tell you what I require from you. Should you decide that you do not wish to work for me, or perhaps you would not like to work for any wizard again, you are free to leave. Understand?” 

She gave a quick, jerky nod. Draco summoned bag from his bedroom. He didn’t know what the house elf he would get would like, so he got a few different options of children’s clothes. He handed Tippy the bag. “Go clean up and pick something from there.” She nodded again and disapparated, returning only a few moments later in one of the dresses. 

It reminded him of the wallpaper in the orphanage nursery, a bright yellow with large flowers all over it. 

Draco nodded. “Alright, you’re free now.”   
Tippy blinked up at him. “Master Draco was going to tell Tippy what the job required?” 

“Yes. So, if you work for me, it won’t be too much. The apartment needs general maintenance, cleaning, laundry. I’d like meals at specific hours, I have no allergies, you’d also do the grocery shopping, unless I say otherwise. I’d also need you to be comfortable near children.”   
“Children?” Tippy blinked.   
“Yes, children. I’m adopting an eight and a half month old boy in a little over a week. You’ll notice that one of the bedrooms has been made up for him. Are those things that you’re comfortable with?” 

Tippy gazed up at him, her eyes wide. “No one’s ever asked Tippy what Tippy’s comfortable with.” Her high-pitched voice shook.   
“I’ll pay you, of course.”  
“But what use does Tippy have for money, sir?”  
“Use it, throw it away, bury it in a box and never touch it again, it doesn’t matter. It would be yours, is the point.”   
“Tippy would be happy to work for such a master.” 

Draco smiled. “Good. I’m happy to have you. You can start whenever you’re ready.” Tippy took a glance around, and disapparated with a soft pop. 

Draco exhaled heavily, and went back to work. Another task down.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Receiving his potions mastery was much less eventful than Draco anticipated. 

The potions master gave him a piece of official-looking parchment congratulated him, briefly praised his work, and that was that. 

Later, at Blaise’s apartment, they ply him with wine and pastries.   
“You better have hangover potions, Dray,” Blaise said cheerfully. “Since you’ll be busy again, we’re making up for both past and future lost time!!” 

Once Greg started crying and talking about how proud of all of them he was, and Pansy joined in, it all became a blur.


	5. I’ll Do Whatever It Takes / My Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has two very essential, though hard conversations, and we finally bring him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! First off, if this chapter seems a bit all over the place, a bit jumpy, sorry about that, but I REALLY didn’t want to split it into two, hence the two names, which I felt both applied to the chapter.
> 
> Also, thanks so much for all the comments!! 💕

* * *

Draco groaned, cursing the sun, and called Tippy. She appeared next to his bed with a tray of hangover potion, strong tea, stronger coffee, and a full English breakfast. 

He groaned his thanks, and consumed it all, in that order. After that he lied in bed for a bit, dreading his day. 

Not this evening, no. This evening he would bring his son home. The thought brought a smile to his face. 

_His son_. 

But before any of that could happen , he had to speak with his mother. And quite frankly, Draco would likely want time to calm down before picking him up. 

He washed slowly, and dressed even slower. Finally, when he could stall no longer, he called Tippy. 

“I’m stepping out,” he told her. “I’d like some wine when I get back.” 

He took a deep breath, and stepped through the floo. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of Narcissa’s house elves led Draco to her dining room where she was having lunch. 

She looked up in surprise. “Darling! What a pleasant surprise! Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, Mother, everything’s fine.” 

“I was just about to write you my congratulations on receiving your potions mastery. I’m very proud, so is your father. Though, he would have preferred to hear it from you.” 

Draco nodded, and took a seat beside her. His lack of communication with his father was one of the few things he and Narcissa had ever argued about. But he wasn’t ready then, and he certainly wasn’t ready now. 

“Of course, as you know, we had our reservations about you furthering your studies in such a way, but we have since realized what excellent opportunities they give you in the community. And with your schedule now a bit freed up-“

“Mother,” Draco interrupted. “I have news.” She looked mildly offended, but inclined her head for him to continue. “Do you remember the boy I played with at the orphanage a few months ago?” 

Narcissa tilted her head and hummed, a curious look on her face. “Well, I went back. I’ve been going back. To see him, that is.” 

Merlin, this was painful. He had to spit it out. “Mother I’ve decided to adopt him.” 

He watched as her expression slid from confusion, to amusement, to realization, and finally, a mixture of horror and disgust. _“The squib child?”_

“We don’t know that he’s a squib.” 

“His mother was! That’s enough!” 

“It doesn’t matter!” 

“It doesn’t-“ Narcissa had a venomous glint in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter?” She spat. “How dare you. How dare you! That is who you’ll allow to be heir of the Malfoy line? To continue your family? _My family_? Centuries of tradition, history, thrown away for some nobody orphan with a squib parent?!” 

“Don’t you dare speak about him that way!” Draco fumed. “He is a child! He can barely walk! He doesn’t deserve your words!” 

“My _words_? He doesn’t deserve your _name_! The legacy of the Malfoy family, of my family! The Noble and Most Ancient House Of Black, that’s what the urchin doesn’t deserve!” 

“HE’S MY SON!”

“NO! I WON’T ALLOW IT!” Despite himself, Draco flinched. He had never heard Narcissa yell before. Her previous words, like ice cold steel, he was accustomed to, but her raising her voice? He squared his shoulders, stood, and looked her in the eye. 

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice was cold, unfeeling. “It’s already done. I was just doing you the courtesy of informing you.” 

His mother’s eyes were alight with her fury, but he continued. “ _I_ am heir to the Malfoy name. _I_ am heir to the House of Black. Whatever I do, is what the family legacies become. The only part _you_ have any say in, is whether you are part of it. Good day, Mother.” 

Draco turned his back on her, and made his way to the floo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the safety of his own flat, a country away, Draco drained the glass of wine Tippy gave him, and immediately sent her for another. He stripped off his suit jacket, and collapsed on his couch, breathing heavily. But before he could spare a thought to the situation he found himself in, his floo chimed. 

“Dray?” Pansy’s voice called. “Are you there? I’m coming in.” He groaned in response, but she was already stepping through the green flames. 

His friend gave him a once over, pursing her lips. “How bad? Was it like we expected?” 

“About. She didn’t disown me on sight, so I suppose it could have gone worse.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco,” Pansy settles herself next to him. “Your parents would never disown you, they _actually_ love you. Never speak to you again, sure, but I doubt Narcissa would blast you off the Manor’s tapestry.” 

“How comforting,” he said dryly, as Tippy appeared with two wine glasses. 

“For Master Draco’s guest,” she said primly, presenting Pansy the other glass. Pansy gave her thanks, and waited for Tippy to leave before speaking again. 

“I’m not here to comfort you, Dray,” she said quietly. “In fact, what I’m about to say will probably make you feel worse.” He looked at her. 

“What could possibly make me feel worse?” 

Pansy looked him in the eye. “We should have had this conversation ages ago, but it’s especially relevant now. Draco, what are you going to do for work?” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Charms, obviously. I might sell potions on the side. My original plan, remember?” 

“And you are going to leave your flat to do this hypothetical charms work and deliver said potions, correct?”

“Of course.”

“And if you get an English assignment? An English order?” 

Draco deflates, realizing where she was going with this. “Pans-“ 

“And when your boy gets a bit older, are you going to apparate and floo him everywhere? Will you allow him to walk in a sun that’s not French? Or will you keep him sit indoors like you keep yourself?” 

“Pansy-“ 

“Do you even know what your front door looks like, Draco? You haven’t seen mine, or Blaise’s or Greg’s-“ 

“What do you want from me?” He burst out. “It’s not safe! I get attacked in the streets, Pansy! In broad daylight! With no repercussions! What if he’s with me when that happens? What if I’m holding him, and someone gets me from behind? I can’t-“ his voice broke, and she took his hand. 

“I know, Dray,” she said, her voice more soothing than it was a minute ago. “But the little thing deserves more than that.” 

“I was going to take him to Muggle areas,” he murmured. “Just at first.” 

“And if he shows signs of magic?” 

“I’d do my research. Daphne has children now, I’d ask her. I have thought this through, Pans. I know it looks like I haven’t, but I have.” 

Pansy nodded. “Alright, then.” They sipped their wine in silence, till Draco spoke again. 

“There’s a muggle park not far from here. I didn’t... I didn’t use the door, you’re right. I will work on that. But there’s a cafe, and a few restaurants close to it... I could take him on walks, and when he’s older, there’s a playground on the park, and we could spend days out, get takeout after...” he trailed off, mouth curving into a smile despite everything. 

“I wouldn’t take him to very many wizarding areas, for our safety, but I won’t raise him entirely muggle, even if he doesn’t show any signs. Probably not Diagon, but we’ll go some places.” 

“It is a little late to be having this conversation, isn’t it?” He laughed shortly, without humor. Pansy smiled wryly. 

“When do you pick him up?” 

He glanced at the clock. 

“Two hours.” 

She leaned back, finally relaxing. “What else have you thought about?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco fussed with his hair, even though it was perfect. Then he fussed with his jacket. Then his hair again, until Pansy slapped his hands away. “You look fine,” she snapped. “And you’re making me nervous. Just go, everything’s already sorted. We’ll be here when you get back.” 

Draco nodded. He took a deep breath. He let it out. He stepped into the flames. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco stepped out of his fireplace less then two hours later, with the biggest grin any of his friends had seen since he was a child. He held the boy, and a baby bag was draped over his shoulder. 

Greg leaped to him feet, and they all stared at the baby in Draco’s arms, who looked curiously back at them. 

“Everyone,” Draco announced proudly. “I’d like you to meet my son, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, guess who finally figured out how to italicize on this thing!!!
> 
> Haha, that ending was so dramatic and for what?!? I’m a sucker for a name reveal, even though we all already knew what his name was going to be


	6. Look At My Son!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Scorpius’s first day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We made it! Also, I decided (literally as I was write writing the last paragraph) that this would be the last chapter. But not to worry! This will be a series, and there will be more parts to it if you care to read them!

Draco didn’t even end up taking Scorpius to his new room that night. After Greg, Pansy and Blaise had their fill cooing over him, Draco had gone up to his own room, and ended up just curled around Scorpius, watching him sleep until he himself fell asleep. 

He woke feeling a variety of emotions, joy, love, pride, before panicking at the fact that he let his son ( _his son_!) sleep in the big bed where Draco could have easily rolled over and accidentally smothered him. (So he’s been reading some baby books in his limited free time, so what? They were useful.)

But once Draco took a few breaths and reassured himself that he did not in fact smother his son in his sleep, he propped himself up on his elbow and watched Scorpius. 

His blond hair had grown a bit since Draco was last able to visit, and he was a bit heavier, but other than that there were few differences since Draco had first met him. Except that he now had three tiny teeth at the front of his mouth. (Draco had been there for the first one, it was a disaster. It broke his heart to know he was in so much pain) 

He leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss on his little forehead, because he could do that now, because that’s what fathers can do to their sons. Not that Draco could remember his own father doing it, but neither Lucius or Narcissa were ever very physically affectionate people. They expressed their love in other ways, like buying him everything he could possibly ask for, and spending as much time with him as possible. 

And Draco loved them, he did, and he really did feel that he had a happy childhood for the most part, but he would be damned if he raised Scorpius the same way. He would be _damned_ if Scorpius turned out anything like him. 

Eventually he called Tippy to bring him coffee, (which was, turns out, something she was _excellent_ at making) and did some work while he waited for Scorpius to wake up. He had taken two weeks off, which was granted with enthusiasm, since Draco hadn’t taken time off since he started his charms apprenticeship, but he still had a few small tasks to take care of. Just paperwork, nothing hands-on. 

The next time he glanced over at Scorpius, he was met with two big blue eyes staring back at him. 

“Hello, _Mon coeur,_ ” Draco crooned, putting his work aside and pulling him into his arms. “Guess what? It’s your very first day in your new home. I’ll take you around the apartment, maybe we’ll have a wander around the neighborhood, how’s that sound, hm?” 

Scorpius grunted. 

“I agree. Breakfast first.” 

Tippy had gone all out for their first breakfast, preparing a platter of crepes, a variety of fresh fruits and berries, thick cream, and eggs. The was the baby seat they got for Scorpius with his bottle warmed at ready. Draco are slowly, introducing Scorpius to the options. He didn’t seem to care for the scrambled eggs, but he seemed to enjoy the bits of raspberries and the cream. 

After Breakfast, Draco walked Scorpius around, chatting all the while. He wasn’t sure what the baby could or couldn’t understand, but all the books said that talking was good for them, so. 

He finally showed Scorpius his room, which Draco was very pleased with. It was a beautiful nursery, with pale blue walls and white accents, purposefully tasteful that he would be able to grow into it without much renovation, but still looking like a nursery. The crib had an attached mobile of the moon phases, and there was a cushioned rocking chair in one corner next to a small but full bookshelf of newfound children’s books, both muggle and wizarding. The closet was empty, as Scorpius’s clothing was still small and informal enough that it all fit in drawers. 

Draco settled into the rocking chair, and looked down at Scorpius (not that he’d looked away much so far). “I never expected to have a son, you know,” he murmured. Scorpius blinked up at him. But it was true. He always told his mother that he was too young, that he was busy, but... he hadn’t felt it was in the cards for him, since the war. He hasn’t dated properly in... Merlin, it must be since sixth year. One-offs with muggles, sure, plenty, but Draco just- understood that he was unlikely to find someone who would accept his past. Which made children out of the question. 

But now, as Draco looked down into the open sky contained in Scorpius’s blue eyes, and suddenly tears were rolling down his cheeks. Draco never imagined he could love someone this much, let alone someone who he’d only known for about three months, who couldn’t even talk yet! 

He loosened a hand so that he could wipe his face, and smiled at Scorpius. “Well, why don’t we go for a walk, _Mon étoile_?” 

He dressed himself first, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a forest green jumper, both brand new, and definitely the most casual things he’d ever worn in his life, save his night clothes. But according to Pansy, ‘Babies are sticky and make messes everywhere, Dray. And as incredible as you look in a tailored suit, a few jumpers wouldn’t kill you.’ 

Draco put Scorpius in a dark plum jumper and some baby dungarees, and flicked his wand around to pack the baby bag. It was still fairly early April, but Draco deemed it warm enough that he didn’t have to put Scorpius in a coat right away, but he still packed one just in case. 

Before they made their way downstairs, Tippy added their lunch, pre-packaged and labeled to the bag, as well as a few snacks for the road, and Draco (finally) physically stepped out of his front door for the first time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting downstairs wasn’t as daunting as Draco expected. It was the middle of the week, late morning, so he didn’t bump into any neighbors on his way down. Once he made it outside, he made his way to the park. 

It was relatively small, completely muggle, as far as he knew, and (luckily for his nerves) completely empty. 

The rest of their morning was simple. Draco put Scorpius in one of the baby seats on the swing sets, and pushed him for a while. Scorpius giggled and squealed, which in turn made Draco grin. Aftera bit of that, they took a few laps around the park, Draco pointing out different trees, flowers, and even, on occasion, birds and bugs to Scorpius. 

The boy was utterly entranced by everything Draco pointed at, gaping with a little mouth wide open as he learned about these different plants for the first time. Scorpius, Draco found, also seemed to like holding the things as Draco described them, and the man found himself with a small collection of flowers, leaves, and tree bark by the time they finished. (Scorpius tried to reach for a bird, too, and cried when it wouldn’t come to him.)

Later that afternoon Draco spread out a light plaid blanket and they had their lunch picnic-style. They weren’t completely alone anymore, but it was still just a few people, mainly adults on their lunch break and a few mothers with babies still too small to be in daycare. Draco would have plenty of time to get used to being out with Scorpius before the summer holidays in a few months. 

He fed Scorpius first, then ate as he ‘played’ (ie, banged some blocks together, quite entertained). After lunch was cleared away, Draco swung on the swings for a bit, with Scorpius in his lap. The swinging eventually lulled him to sleep, and Draco to it as an indication to head back him. 

He only took the wrong turn twice, which he counted as a win, considering it was his first time out and about. When he got back, he put Scorpius down in his crib, and took the tea Tippy made him. 

He couldn’t bring himself to go back to his room, not yet, so he sat in the rocking chair in Scorpius’s room and watched him sleep. 

Draco’s cheeks hurt from all the smiling he had done that day. He still wasn’t sure how this tiny human had changed so much of his life, so quickly. 

And, as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall as he slept, Draco had a feeling that Scorpius would keep changing him for the rest of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have Draco speaking English while in France just to come back to England and have him call his son French pet names? Yes I did. I don’t have good reasoning for that. 
> 
> Also, please appreciate that I spent over an hour googling what 8-month-old babies can eat and how they behave. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Mon couer- My heart  
> Mon étoile- My star


End file.
